Soft Touch
by edxwin-elric
Summary: Edwin One Shot/Fluff - Late into her first pregnancy, Winry is in need of some pampering, and Ed doesn't hesitate to step in.


Rating: T

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don't own _Fullmetal Alchemist_.

Word Count: 1750

Title: Soft Touch

Description: Edwin One Shot/Fluff

Late into her first pregnancy, Winry is in need of some pampering, and Ed doesn't hesitate to step in.

A/N: This is sort of a sequel to my fic _Smooth Like Silk_ , where Winry takes advantage of a sleeping Ed to play with his hair. I hope you guys enjoy it.

* * *

 _ **Edward**_

 _Please, God, or whatever power is fucking out there, let her have gone to bed._

As I walk up the stairs, the thought floats through my mind, and I pause on the top step to brace myself. I can hope as much as I want, but chances are…

I look up and crane my neck to see the room at the end of the hall.

"Shit," I mumble.

Exactly what I was afraid of. Winry isn't in bed. What a stupid notion. Even after being on her feet all day trying to help May do girly shit like select flower arrangements and coordinate wedding colors, she's working.

I sigh and run a hand over the back of my head as I make my way to the door to her shop room. When I open it, she doesn't turn around. I lean on the doorframe and cross my arms, watching her. She's so into what she's doing, I hate to interrupt her…but I know I have to.

She's a brilliant mechanic, and she loves her work. I know first-hand how good her automail is, so I can't blame her for wanting to make some progress on her current pieces. But I can't look at her through the eyes of her supportive husband right now. While I am both of those things, I'm also an expectant father, and her health and the health of our baby comes first.

Quietly, I walk up behind her and drop my hands to her hunched shoulders. At least she's sitting down. I'd hate to see the size of her ankles if she was standing while trying to do this.

"Ed, I'm almost–"

Her sentence devolves into a moan as my thumbs press into her knotted muscles, gently massaging her upper back.

"It's time for sleep, automom," I mutter, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

Instantly, I feel my lips pucker. When was the last time she washed her hair? I mean, I love her, but fuck that's oily.

"No, don't kiss me," she groans. "I'm gross."

I don't say anything because, if I did, I'd have to agree with her, and I'm certain that wouldn't go over well.

"I need to shower," she confesses. "But it's hard to move carrying this around."

She nods to her _very_ _rounded_ belly, and I see her lips pout.

"I look like a beached whale," she grumbles.

I sigh and move my hands up to massage her neck where it meets her shoulder.

"You're thirty-six weeks pregnant, Winry. You look like you're about to have a baby."

"Well, I'm ready to have it now," she fires back. "I'm tired of…of being tired," she looks up at me. "And of sweating _all the time_ , and of having to waddle everywhere like I'm some kind of duck person…and I want to drink a beer when Granny visits for a change."

I raise my eyebrows and she looks away.

"Well, at least some wine," she amends. "And I'm ready for every inch of my body to stop feeling like it's been stretched beyond reason and for my spine to go back to normal."

"Winry," I say softly.

"It's not fun anymore, Ed," she announces, meeting my eyes again. "Mostly…this hurts."

I see her lip quiver, and a muscle in my jaw ticks as helplessness flashes through me.

"My feet are puffy," she goes on. "My clothes don't fit right… Den won't fit in my lap."

I don't bother mentioning that _technically_ Den can't fit in her lap even when she's not housing a tiny person in her belly.

"I want to have _sex_ ," she breathes, her head dropping back against my stomach. "And not the oral kind."

I feel my cheeks turning pink, but I just swallow and don't say a word.

"You're really good at it," she goes on, reaching up to squeeze my hand on her neck. "But…it's not the same. I miss… _you_."

"Believe me, Win, the feeling is mutual," I tell her, my voice thick with sudden arousal.

She's quiet for a minute, and I'm afraid she might've fallen asleep.

"Winry?"

"I'm here," she whispers. "Talking about this isn't making me feel better."

She sighs and starts to stand. I quickly move to help her, giving her my arm so she can balance.

"Let's just go to bed," she sighs.

I glance at the clock on the wall and look down at her again.

"Actually," I start slowly, "if you think you can stay awake a little longer, I had an idea."

She looks up at me suspiciously. "What?"

"Well…I know it can't fix everything that's bothering you, but…how would you feel about letting me wash your hair?"

"Wash my…" She blinks.

"You said I was welcome to play with it," I remind her, thinking back to conversation from months ago on a night when I caught her combing her fingers through mine.

"Um…are you sure?"

"Of course." I lean down and press my nose to the skin behind her ear. "I know how to manage long hair, Winry. It's no problem."

"Okay then." She nods. "Sure."

Since I have her approval, I slide one arm around her waist and grab the chair from her work bench with my free hand. I have her stand outside the bathroom while I figure out the best arrangement, and then I help her into the chair which I have positioned facing away from the sink.

"Lean back," I instruct her softly, after I get the water running at the right temperature.

She moans as I pull her masses of blonde hair into the bowl, getting them good and wet before turning off the faucet. I then begin plying her with shampoo.

"Edward," she gasps after a second, and I pause.

"What? Are you in pain?"

"No," she replies dismissively. "Not any more than normal. Don't stop."

I go back to working the soap into every inch of her hair before spending extra time just massaging her scalp. She lets out a soft noise, and I look down at her face to see her eyes are closed.

"Are you falling asleep?"

"Maybe just a little," she mumbles sleepily. "God, your fingers are magic."

I almost laugh. She's said that several times in the past few months, but never in a situation like this.

"Try to stay awake, okay? I'm almost done and then we can go to bed."

I seriously _do not_ need her to fall out of her chair right now.

"Okay," she yawns, and I turn on the warm water to being rinsing out the flowery suds.

When all the soap is gone, I use a towel to squeegee as much of the water out of her hair as I can before having her lean forward in her seat so I can twist her hair into a towel wrap.

"Bedtime?" She looks up at me as I pull her to her feet.

"Yeah, Winry." I scoop her up in my arms. "Let's go."

I get her into bed and tuck her in before leaving briefly to turn off the bathroom light and make sure the house is shut down. When I come back, she's curled onto her side with one pillow supporting her belly and another between her knees. The towel around her head is coming loose, so I grab my hair brush and sit down on the edge of her mattress beside her hip.

"You should come to bed," she tells me, reaching down to put a hand on my knee.

"Let me do one last thing, okay?"

She rolls her eyes at me but smiles as she rests her cheek on her pillow.

For the next half hour or so, I gently brush out her hair. She has a lot of it—more than I do, but for the most part it isn't tangled at all. When I stop, it's mostly dry and almost looks like it's glowing in the lamp light.

I tug the towel out from under her head and toss it behind me before leaning down to kiss her temple. I get a nose full of her shampoo, and I grin. I may not be able to help with a lot of what she's struggling with right now, but I'll do what I can.

I run my fingers through it a few more times before leaving it spread out across Winry's pillow. I then strip off my clothes and pull the tie out of my own hair, freeing it from a haphazard bun, and climb into bed beside her.

As I reach over her to turn out the light, I hear her mutter something.

"What?" I whisper, dropping my ear to her lips.

"I said, thank you, Ed," she murmurs, her soft breath tickling my neck. "I feel a lot better."

"Good," I say, relief leaking into my voice. "I love you, Winry."

"I love you, too."

"You'll be a great mom." I slide down under the covers.

"Thanks. Now, go to sleep, Dad."

My stomach drops at the word, and I swallow hard. Sometimes, I forget all that it means for her to be pregnant. What it means _for me_ , anyway. I'm so caught up in how she feels and what she needs…

I lower my head and move it until our foreheads are touching.

We're in this together. We're going to have a baby. A family.

I reach out and rest my large hand on her belly, forcing a slow breath, so I don't start crying. I've never wanted anything as much as I want this baby. (Not since Al and I got our bodies back.) It's hard to believe it's really happening.

 _Unless something goes wrong._

I feel my body tense, and my breath catches in my lungs. That, or I'll be a shit dad. It's possible. Every father figure in my life has failed or fallen. How am I supposed to know what to do with a kid?

Oh God. I'm not ready. What am I gonna do?

Winry's hand finds its way to mine, and I instantly feel calmer at her touch.

"Sleep, Ed," she whispers. "Everything is fine."

I exhale at her voice and pull the sheets up over my shoulder. She's right, of course. I know I'm going to be okay. I have Winry to help me. And Al and Granny. I have nothing to worry about.

With my mind finally at ease, I move as close to my wife as possible, and succumb to sleep.


End file.
